An hour had elapsed since her condemnation; at that moment, doubtless, she was recalling all her crimes to her memory; she was asking pardon for her sins; perhaps she was even writing a letter imploring forgiveness from her virtuous husband⁠—a forgiveness she was purchasing with her death! Villefort again groaned with anguish and despair.

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “that woman became criminal only from associating with me! I carried the infection of crime with me, and she has caught it as she would the typhus fever, the cholera, the plague! And yet I have punished her⁠—I have dared to tell her⁠— I have⁠—‘Repent and die!’ But no, she must not die; she shall live, and with me. We will flee from Paris and go as far as the earth reaches. I told her of the scaffold; oh, Heavens, I forgot that it awaits me also! How could I pronounce that word? Yes, we will fly; I will confess all to her⁠—I will tell her daily that I also have committed a crime!⁠—Oh, what an alliance⁠—the tiger and the serpent; worthy wife of such as I am! She must live that my infamy may diminish hers.”